Lyrics:
a marching band playing in my head
I forget the details but the dread remains, I'm hanging by a thread
I don't wanna be a regret that you have
No, I don't
you spit but don't cap
I made another dollar just by writing this verse
I know you playing the blame game, I'm bringing my name fame, you lame
'Cause
house, I was in my
Room, no furniture, no nothin'
And, this is cool
Like, one minute and thirty second
Song, but I'm like
I wanna take it somewhere i
Yeah
Ayo
I'm not perfect
I'm not exactly what you think
I'm never gonna be anyone's
Favorite anything
Or the best at anything
But yo
Fuck it
At least
A rap that'll cap like a true blue rap
Not a washed-up almost MC sap
Little girls so fresh and I know you are
Wanna take a little ride in my new car
I
money)
(Baby, slide by)
Don't you play with me, I wanna see you
How you gon' treat me like I'm see-through?
Five hundred thousand dollar cars when I
on being mine
Boy, I'll be your blessed shining knight
But God forbid you leave me by myself
I'll take you to hell, take you to hell, take you to hell
Everyone wants to be a cowboy
Grab your guns boy
Forty-five by my side, do he live
No the nigga dies
Zen, zen zen zen zen zen zen
You shot
Everyone wants to be a cowboy
Grab your guns boy
Forty-five by my side, do he live
No the nigga dies
Zen, zen zen zen zen zen zen
You shot your
you do me
I love to go on about the funk, matter of fact
I'd love to be another funk front runner
But first we gotta deal with the fronters
So I can't
stupidity.
It's not the road, the space around me ripped,
And I was chased by white birds that don't sing,
That are always there but I can't touch.
I
always ignored the warnings
But if I don’t talk about it then my record will be boring
So you think I’m gonna help after all of your cold shoulders
At this
this
Gotta be in it to win it
I never come lame type killing in the game
Hot music
Raised by game
Where niggas ain't fazed by fame
Come
this
Gotta be in it to win it
I never come lame type killing in the game
Hot music
Raised by game
Where niggas ain't fazed by fame
Come
that's hard
ok, do you understand, because I wanna do different things and I'm not
Please continue straight and then keep to the right
But that implies
Lining 'em up, I think I've done it again
Lying in blood, shouldn't have gone for the head
She wanna fuck, but I hope she'll love me again
Love me
and bleeding all over
And I'm like "Hey, come on, don't you get it?"
But he just keeps rolling around on the sidewalk, bleeding, and screaming
You know,
Fuck what you know
Smoking my shit with myself on the low
I don’t be fucking with anyone else
I’m introverted with me and my bros
Fuck what you know
by Whitney Houston back in 1992
I don't do it for the views, no, I do it for fulfillment
And as long as that is true can't nobody take that from you
friends
You've never had
Shit like this could really turn anyone mad
But i ain't anyone, or better than anyone
I'm just tryna make music till
It's heard by
a standing ovation to yourself
My life can’t be built by itself
I didn’t get this far by myself
The list is so long, you know who you are
Standing ovation
My
to take the necessary action
Maybe this is just the image I have made of this community, but if you want to be honest, the existence of problems is
bout
News I can't take
Rubbing sticks
Don't give shit
Just hit the quit switch
But I'll be alright
I push to survive
Not gonna lie
Really need to take
try it, if you can't keep quiet
I put seventeen bullets in your diet
Layin' in a puddle cause you hoes wanna rumble,
Spm like Tarzan, King
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